These Four Words
by Katwood5
Summary: Sometimes heartbreak is necessary. At least, that's what he told himself as he prepared to follow through with his plan...
1. Chapter 1

So, here's another one-shot. I'll probably be writing these from time to time or whenever an idea strikes me. No worries though...I'll still update Oblivion weekly! I want to thank rippingbutterflywings for beta'ing this and also for "pushing" me to post it. ;) You rock girly! Don't know what I'd do without you ya!

She also pointed out that my one-shots tend to be sad...this is true, but they are usually inspired by songs, so...I hope that's okay. I promise Oblivion will have more happy moments than sad. I'm just in sort of a dark place right now, so the ideas that are reaching out to me tend to be more on the darker side as well.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Please take the time to listen to this song (which was introduced to me by the girly mentioned above). It's so good!

Thank you so much!

* * *

These Four Words _(The Maine)_

He had asked her to come to the bar that night because he was performing. It wasn't like he needed to ask her; she always came to watch him, but he had to make sure that she would be there – it was important. He felt guilty. So guilty. But it was something he had to do…he just wasn't good enough for her.

She was sitting at a high top table near the center of the room, still lit by the spotlights shining from the stage. He could see her from the stool he was perched upon; his acoustic guitar was hanging by the thick strap that was draped across his broad shoulders and resting gently on his lap. Her friends were with her and he was glad for that; she would need them after this. Maia, Aline, and Isabelle were a good support team for her. They would surely hate him, but as long as they took care of her…that didn't matter.

He knew his friends – Jordan, Sebastian, Jonathon, Alec, and Magnus – were around somewhere. They usually stuck close to the bar so they could listen to him but not look like they were fans. He didn't mind, so long as they showed up for support. He would need some tonight. Unfortunately, Seb would probably be the only one to offer it after he showed his ass. He spotted them by the bar, exactly where he suspected, lounging carelessly while engaging in light conversation over beers.

His golden eyes caught sight of a tall, curvy blonde waitress – Kaelie – who was wearing too little clothing, and she noticed. She slowly licked her red stained top lip and seductively winked a blue eye at him. She was exactly the reason he was doing what he had planned that night. He had a hard time keeping his dirty thoughts, and his horny dick, to himself. He hadn't cheated – yet – but he was having a damn hard time lately and the last thing he wanted to do was cheat on _her_. She deserved better. She deserved the world. He couldn't give her the world.

Once again his eyes found her, Clary. She was laughing with her friends and he could almost hear the melody carry over the crowd. God, she was so fucking beautiful. He couldn't help but want to run his fingers through her vibrant, curly red hair, feeling the silky locks as they slipped through the spaces between. Her fair, freckled skin enticed him, igniting a deep desire within his being to trail his hands and lips all over her petite body. He focused on her lips as she laughed. Those lips had done some sinfully good things to his body in their time together. They were so full and soft, and they tasted like strawberries. It drove him crazy with desire.

She looked towards him, as if sensing his stare and her emerald green eyes locked onto his aureate ones. Those same sparkling eyes that always bore into his soul and saw everything he couldn't convey in words. He wondered if she knew what he was thinking at that moment. Her thin brows pinched together to form a slight crease of worry between her gorgeous eyes. He smiled at her, trying his hardest to reassure her that everything was fine…although he knew that was a lie. She smiled back and his heart nearly stopped. She was too damn good for him. He had to do this now before he chickened out. He was chicken shit.

Clearing his throat, he strummed a chord on his guitar and leaned towards the microphone.

"Hey. How's everyone doing tonight?"

Cheers broke out across the room, mostly from women, and he saw her cupping her tiny hands around her delicious mouth as she shouted the loudest over the crowd.

"I'm Jace, and I'm going to play a song for you that I wrote."

He glanced at her one more time, wanting to remember that smile on her face forever, then he started to play.

_I really should just go home_

_And play with myself_

_Better that than stay_

_And do something else_

'_Cause we can't be friends that much I know_

He still couldn't believe that he was going through with this. What a coward he was, to humiliate her in front of all these people and through a song, nonetheless.

_I wish it wasn't so_

_And I can't take my heart someplace it won't go_

_Show me to the door_

The silence that washed over the room caused a chill to race up his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood alert and a tremble gently shook his tall, muscular frame.

_As if a plane crash were timely_

_There's no good time for bad news_

_These four words don't come easy_

'_I don't love you'_

He peeked up through his light colored lashes to try and gauge her reaction. She was sitting still, almost lifeless, on her bar chair. Her features were fixed in an eerily calm stare. But he knew her better; he could see the slight downward pull to her perfect lips and the barely visible sheen to her intriguing eyes.

_Listen to your friends and leave me alone_

_I'm just a boy_

_I'm drunk, I'm 24_

Movement pulled his attention away from her. Kaelie was standing just a few feet from Clary's table, her tray resting on her tantalizing hip and a smirk splayed across her luscious lips.

_I don't want to hurt you anymore_

_Don't waste your tears on me now, pretty girl_

_When I hate myself for letting you go_

_You can be the one to say 'I told you so'_

There was a slight commotion from her friends. Isabelle had placed a hand atop hers that were resting in her lap, and Maia was leaning across the table with a comforting hand on her bare shoulder. That sexy black dress she was wearing was not helping him concentrate on his plan. He needed to focus before he broke. But she was just so damn beautiful…

_As if a plane crash were timely_

_There's no good time for bad news_

_These four words don't come easy_

'_I don't love you'_

By that point, his friends had found their way to her table, and Alec and Magnus were huddled around her shrinking frame. He could barely see her now and the weight from his shame was hanging heavy on his chest. Why was he doing this again? Right, because he was a dick. Jordan caught his eye and he shook his head in disappointment; a scowl was fixed upon his face.

_As if a plane crash were timely_

_There's no good time for bad news_

_These four words don't come easy_

'_I don't love you'_

Those last words were untruth…but she didn't need to know that. He was only doing this to protect her. He had already convinced himself that he wasn't good enough for her. There was no going back now.

The last note hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. It was quiet for a quick moment before the audience began clapping and whistling. He looked for her again, but didn't see her. The table was vacant. He needed to find her, to make sure she was alright.

He placed his guitar back in its case and hopped off the stage, making it about halfway across the room before a hand pressed against his chest halted his movement. Kaelie.

"Hey," she breathed out, trying to sound sexy. It only annoyed him at that moment.

"Hey," he mumbled, his eyes still searching for the familiar red hair of the girl he'd just destroyed.

"So," she drawled while tracing the curvature of his pectorals. "Since you're single now, and all, do you wanna stop by my place later tonight? Say, after eleven?"

A shiver of disgust raced through his body. He hadn't been single for thirty seconds and she was already willing to spread her legs for him. Had he made a mistake?

He looked up again, desperate to find her.

No. He had made the right choice. He was protecting her heart. Sure, it hurt now, but she would see in the long run – when he couldn't remain faithful because of his fucking hormones – that she was better off without him.

He looked back own at Kaelie, firmly wrapped his hand around her wrist and effectively removed her claws from his flesh.

"No, thank you. I think I'll pass."

The shock that washed over her model-like face made him smile smugly inside. It was a nice feeling to know that he had caused that reaction in her. After all, _she_ had disrespected Clary by making a move on him so soon after…

That's what he wanted, though, right? He wanted _her_ to be mad. He wanted _her_ to have a reason to hate him. Then why couldn't he say yes to Kaelie? She was obviously attractive, and he had been sending subliminal flirts her way for a while now. So why did it feel so wrong when she gave him such an enticing offer? He knew why. But it was too late.

Red flashed in his peripheral and he was on the move yet again. He tracked her all the way to the bar's entrance before another hand stopped him in his pursuit. He looked up and into green eyes. Only they weren't the green eyes he wanted to see. They were the green eyes of his friend, Jordan. And he was pissed. This was not going to be good for him.

"Don't fucking think about it," Jordan growled.

"I just want to make sure she's okay."

"Of course she's not okay. You just fucking broke up with her in a fucking song in front of a hundred fucking people!" Jordan spat in his face. He had never seen his friend so pissed before.

"I know. But if I can just explain –"

"No," another voice spoke. "You don't get to explain."

Jace looked past Jordan and saw Alec standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest. Magnus and Seb were flanking each side of him.

"Alec," he pleaded with his best friend. "Please, just let me see her. Let me explain myself."

"I think you've said enough. Izzy and Maia are taking her to Jon's place for the night. We'll be by tomorrow to pack up her belongings at your apartment –"

"If you can wait that long," Sebastian interrupted aggressively. So much for _his_ support.

He watched his friends walk out of the door as they turned their backs on him, leaving him alone. He fucked up. Big time. He knew that before he even followed through with it. But he thought that he would have the understanding of at least one of his friends. He was wrong. So wrong. And now she was gone – gone forever, just as he wanted.

* * *

Please let me know what you think! :)


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._

So many of you have asked that I continue this one-shot because you were so curious to see what happened between Jace &amp; Clary after that fateful night. Well, I was struck with inspiration and I have decided to grant your wishes! :) These Four Words will now be a three part story. Yay!

I want to thank the lovely rippingbutterflywings for beta'ing this. She has shaped it into what I believe is a pretty darn good continuation from the first part. (I've missed you!)

Also, for those of you following Oblivion - I have NOT abandoned that story. This past month got a little crazy for me and, to be honest, I sort of lost some of my inspiration. But, then this begged to be written and I just had to listen. Haha! I promise that I will be working on the next chapter for Oblivion and hopefully you will receive it soon.

Thanks so much for everything! Ya'll are wonderful!

* * *

Part II

Misery (The Maine)

She was engaged. Engaged. The very thought terrified her.

It wasn't that she didn't love Jordan, because she did. He had pulled her through the darkest years of her life, and he had saved her from herself. Jordan would do anything for her, anything she asked, and even what she didn't. He was amazing.

But that didn't keep her from feeling the emptiness. That presence, or lack thereof, of meaning that she used to have, that used to fill her up until she felt as if she would explode from the pressure. That all left when _he _did.

But she couldn't think about that, because she was too preoccupied with deterring Isabelle from planning an over-the-top bachelorette party for her. She was still two weeks away from the wedding, but due to scheduling conflicts amongst her friends they had decided to have the party during the upcoming weekend. It worked out well, though, because Jordan and all of his buddies would be in Las Vegas celebrating the end of his bachelor-hood that same weekend.

The problem she was faced with was reeling Isabelle back from all of the extravagant plans she had for the girls. Maia, Aline, and Rebecca (Isabelle's boyfriend's sister, Simon) would be joining them in the festivities, and none of them were much for excessive partying. Isabelle had talked about renting out a venue and inviting a load of their friends and catering in food and an abundance of alcohol. There was even mention of strippers, which Clary was highly opposed to for a multitude of reasons. Why on earth would she want to see some random guy's…junk? No, thank you.

"Iz," she began in a slightly whiny tone. "I don't want a huge party. I don't want a lot of fuss. And I _definitely_ don't want strippers!"

Isabelle growled. "Fine! Have it your way. Ruin all the fun!"

"That's exactly my point. This is _my_ celebration. I just want my closest friends to go out for a night of harmless fun and dancing. And maybe a little alcohol." She giggled. "Or maybe a lot."

Isabelle perked up. "Dancing?"

"Sure." Clary shrugged. "We love to dance."

Then her friend got that look on her face. That look Clary knew all too well. She could practically see the wheels turning behind Isabelle's large, dark eyes.

"What?" Clary asked warily.

"Oh, nothing." Isabelle responded elusively.

Clary sighed. If she knew anything, it was that Isabelle would not divulge information unless she wanted to. And it was very obvious by her tone and expression that she didn't want to at that moment. So Clary let it go and moved onto the next topic up for discussion: acceptable bachelorette party wardrobe.

Three days later, the limo pulled up to the curb in front of Club Pandemonium, and Clary and her friends filed out onto the sidewalk. Pandemonium had once been a private, locals-only bar. But over the years, word had gotten out about it and it became a full-blown club, complete with a DJ, dance floor, and massive door security detail. Fortunately for them, Maia was dating a bartender there, so they would have no problem gaining admittance into the now overflowing club. Her boyfriend, Bat, was even treating them to their first round of drinks…on the house, of course.

Clary followed her friends through the entrance and into the dark, crowded room of sweaty bodies and loud, pulsing music. She hadn't stepped foot inside that building in ten years, not since – it had just been a long time. Isabelle led them to a table that she had reserved for them ahead of time so they would be close enough to the stage and to the dance floor, but still allowed privacy for their group.

As they all took their seats and got comfortable, a presence appeared at their table and Clary felt a sense of wrongness wash over her body, like a cold and nasty chill creeping up her spine.

"What can I get to drink for you?" a low, nasally voice asked.

Clary looked up and stared in shock at the girl before her.

"Well, look who we have here," the girl observed with a smug edge to her irritating voice.

Recognition and resentment struck the redhead as she narrowed her emerald eyes at the object of her disdain for the last decade.

The only person on the planet that Clary truly hated: Kaelie.

Tall, curvy, and platinum blonde Kaelie.

Boyfriend stealing Kaelie.

The Queen Bitch herself: Kaelie.

"Look who hasn't progressed in the world and found a better job than hooking for tips at a local bar," Isabelle spoke up with venom in her voice.

She was always quick to come to Clary's defense.

Kaelie's icy glare moved left from Clary to Isabelle.

"Isabelle," she spat, as if the very name tasted disgusting on her tongue.

"Kaelie," Isabelle countered with added disdain as she narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "It figures you'd still be carting drinks around to drunken men for cheap earnings."

"For your information," Kaelie began as she continued to glare in Isabelle's direction, "I'm only helping out for a few weeks as a favor to the owner, who happens to be a personal friend of mine."

Isabelle snorted.

Kaelie narrowed her eyes even more until her crystal blue irises were barely visible through the slits in her heavily lined lashes. "I'm actually working as an editor for a fashion magazine, not that I owe _you_ an explanation."

"As entertaining as this little exchange has been," Aline cut in, "the rest of us would like to order our drinks now."

Isabelle and Kaelie kept their eye contact for a few more seconds before Kaelie finally looked away with a huff, turning her fake nose up in indignation.

"Fine. What would you like?"

The girls all ordered their drinks, but, before Kaelie could leave, Maia spoke up. "Make sure you let Bat know those drinks are for us. He said he would take care of our first round." Maia smiled and looked over at Clary. "Clary's getting married and this is her bachelorette party."

Clary smiled gently back at her friend. When she looked up at Kaelie, she was met with a knowing smirk. A smirk she was all too familiar with. It was the same smirk that Kaelie wore _that_ night. When she realized what _he_ had planned.

"Sure thing. I'll be right back with your drinks," Kaelie sweetly said before she sauntered away.

Clary turned back to her friends in confusion. A feeling of dread settled in her stomach.

"What was that about?" Rebecca spoke up for the first time since their arrival to the club.

"No idea," Maia mumbled.

"She's a nutcase," Isabelle added as she cut her eyes over to Clary. "Just ignore her."

Isabelle spoke with confidence, but Clary heard the underlying worry in her tone. Before she could ask her what she was thinking, a loud, high-pitched tone pierced the air. Her hands flew to her ears, muffling the harsh sound. She looked across the table and saw the others doing the same, but as she continued to look at each of them, she saw their features morph into subdued shock – all except for Isabelle who remained stoic.

Clary followed their line of sight a few feet away to the stage where the band that was performing that night was preparing to begin their set. She noticed their bassist and their drummer and their guitarist, all setting up their instruments, but that wasn't what caught her eye. There was one person in particular that gripped at her free will like a vice and prevented her from turning back and running at full speed out of the building and to her escape on the street.

She was stuck – trapped – and she couldn't turn away. Her pulse pounded in her ears and her heart felt as if it would explode from her chest with each erratic beat it made. A slight tremble shook her frame and she felt as if she were going to be sick, or cry, or scream even.

Why was he there? He hadn't been home in ten years! And of all the places he could choose to play…

Clary knew he had become a famous musician – she wasn't surprised at all when she had found out from was extraordinarily talented, and she knew he'd make it in the business, no matter what. She always had faith in him, even back when things were good for them. It was hard not to keep up with his rising fame over the years, too. His face was everywhere she looked. Not to mention that Isabelle and Alec had both kept in close contact with him ever since he left. They were practically family, as close as individuals could get without blood ties.

She had even heard a few of his songs on the radio over the years. Of course, before she could get too far into the tune, she'd have to change the station due to the overwhelming emotions that his voice alone caused in her. It was baffling how he still had so much control over her emotions, over her memories, over her actions, and over her.

She remembered how hard it was for her to finally let go of him after he left her. How she held onto his memory so tightly that it took months – two years, to be exact – for her friends to get her back. Jordan had been a huge part of that recovery. He had practiced so much patience with her. It wasn't until after the third year that he began to indicate more of a romantic interest in her. But, she still hadn't been ready then, she still hadn't moved on completely from _him_.

It was probably around the five-year mark that she had decided to give Jordan a chance. His patience and devotion had astounded her. And it was around the eight-and-a-half year mark that she had finally accepted his _third_ marriage proposal.

Clary heard muffled voices surrounding her, sounding very much like her name on repeat. A gentle hand on her shoulder shook her out of her reverie. She snapped back to the present, and that was when she saw amber eyes staring back at her. They were wide and appeared to be just as shocked as she was. Just below those captivating irises was the most perfect pair of full lips forming a large and astounded 'O'.

Their gazes stayed locked for what seemed like ages. Then, as if he were awakened from a dream, his mouth snapped shut and he dropped his stare to the guitar in his large and skillful hands. One of his bandmates called to him and he nodded his reply. Clary couldn't find the strength to tear her eyes away from him; she was fearful that he would disappear again.

"Clary."

She heard her name being called by a familiar voice, but she paid no mind to its source.

"CLARY!"

The force of the tone brought her back to reality. Slowly, she turned her gaze back to her friends, who were all watching her in guarded curiosity. Isabelle stared in apprehension, chewing on her bottom lip as if she were nervous. As if she knew this would happen. As if she knew _he_ would be there.

Anger rose up in her body as Clary prepared to unleash all of her animosity at her best friend.

"Wait!" Isabelle warned, holding her hands out in front of her body in protection. "Before you explode, just let me explain."

"You _knew_ he would be here?!" Clary cried out in rage as she rose from her seat.

"Yes," Isabelle began. "But, if you'd let me explain-"

"You _knew_ he would be here!" Clary growled furiously. Her blood boiled to the surface of her skin.

She was getting loud. She would begin drawing attention to herself if she didn't settle down a bit, but she was so enraged at her friend that she was having a difficult time remaining rational.

"He told Alec a couple of weeks ago that he was playing here tonight." Her friend began her explanation. "Alec mentioned it to me, and when you said that you wanted an intimate celebration with dancing, this was the first place that came to mind."

Clary scoffed.

"I didn't do this to upset you or to put you in an uncomfortable situation," she continued in a rush. "I honestly thought it would be good for you to see him one more time. Maybe even…talk to him."

"Are you…" Clary balked. She felt the unwanted tears prickle at the backs of her eyes. She blinked, holding them at bay.

"Even Alec thought it was a good idea!" Isabelle tried to justify herself. "He agreed that you needed to see him one last time in order to move on!"

"I _have_ moved on, Isabelle!" She never called her friend by her full name, unless she was upset. Very upset.

Isabelle recoiled as if Clary had physically slapped her.

"Why would you think this was a good idea?" The tears brimmed her lower lids. "What good could possibly come out of us seeing each other again?!" Her voice began to waver. "Did you ever think that this could potentially do damage?!" Her hands shook. "Did you think about _that_?" Her heart raced.

"He asked about you," Isabelle replied meekly. "He always asks about you."

Clary stopped short in her rant. Her blood ran cold, the heat that boiled at the surface of her skin from before receded into the deepest recesses of her betrayed soul. Her mind buzzed from the drunkenness her tirade had brought on.

She shakily lowered herself back into her chair.

"He's been asking about you since that day." Isabelle continued cautiously.

Clary stared ahead, her eyes unable to focus on any singular point.

"He came back here because Alec told him you were getting married."

The ringing in her ears sounded like a thousand bees swarming her head. She absentmindedly noted a slight side-to-side motion as her soft curls swept against her bare shoulders.

A warm hand tenderly covered hers that were clasped tightly together in her lap.

"He wanted to see you. He wanted to talk to you." Isabelle's voice was gentle and soothing. "He said he couldn't watch this chapter of your life come to an end without explaining to you why he did what he did."

Her breathing became labored. She thought she might pass out.

"Clary," another voice called to her. She vaguely registered it as Aline's. "Are you okay?"

Her head continued its minute side-to-side motion. Her voice was lost.

A sudden clanging of glass against wood caused her to jump out of her stupor.

"Huh. I see little Miss Perfect has finally discovered her long lost Prince Charming," Kaelie snidely remarked as she not-so-gently dropped their drinks to the table.

"Fuck off!" Isabelle shot back at her, rising partially from her seat and placing both hands firmly against the table in a defensive stance.

Kaelie began to laugh, clearly pleased with the reaction she was able to draw out of the feisty brunette.

"You stupid-" Isabelle rose from her seat, ready for a physical confrontation, when she was gently drawn back by Maia.

"Iz," the other girl warned.

Isabelle huffed. "Fine." Then she lowered herself back to her seat.

"Get lost, Kaelie," Aline interjected before the situation could get out of hand.

"Fine, whatever," she replied with a laugh. "But, I won't be too far away. I want to see the destruction first-hand, just like last time. Oh, that was such a bittersweet moment. Bitter for you, sweet for me."

Kaelie slithered away, but kept true to her promise by remaining a safe distance from their table. If Clary hadn't been paralyzed by shock, she would've jumped at the serpent and torn her to shreds.

A guitar strum reverberated through the amplifiers and speakers strategically placed around the club.

Clary's heart rate picked up pace, and she felt as if she were suffocating. She trembled slightly.

She felt Isabelle's hand cover her clasped ones once again. Her friend gave them a gentle squeeze. Clary was finally able to focus her vision once more, and decided to train her eyes on her friend's face. Isabelle was asking for forgiveness through her expression. Clary gave her a small, warm smile.

Another guitar strum, followed by a throat clearing.

She couldn't look at him.

"Hey." His voice sounded small and hesitant. So unlike him. "How's everyone doing tonight?"

Cheers and claps sounded in response.

"Good," he chuckled. "It's good to be back here. I haven't seen this place in…ten years."

Her heart clenched. If she thought his voice was hard to hear on the radio…she never thought she'd hear it in person again.

"I've missed this place," he continued as he quietly strummed the strings of his electric guitar. "There's just something about coming home. It does something to a person, a person who thought they had left everything behind…left everything resolved…"

The tears returned and clouded her vision, which was currently focused on the ruby charm draped around Isabelle's neck. A tight knot formed in her throat, making it unbearably hard to swallow.

"I planned on starting off with one of our newer songs tonight." The crowed whooped in satisfaction. "But, after some brief deliberation, I've decided to play one of our older ones instead."

There was a tiny chorus of gasps just to the right of her ear belonging to Maia, Aline, and Rebecca.

"This song was written during a very dark time in my life. I had willingly lost a part of myself and was aching to have it back."

She couldn't listen anymore. She couldn't hear what he was going to say next.

"It was a regretful time in my life. It still is. I've never been able to let go of the burden that I carry because of it."

She trembled more forcefully, her shoulders visibly shaking.

"This song was sort of an escape for me. A way for me to channel the guilt and anger and devastation that one single choice brought into my life."

She was going to lose all the restraint she was desperately clutching onto. The years of reformation and renewal were crumbling to ruin and rubble within her soul and her heart.

"Anyway, I'm sure you aren't interested in hearing about my guilt-ridden sorrows." He chuckled nervously. "This is 'Misery'."

The room fell quiet as the guitar made its introduction. She held her breath, her eyes searching out her best friend's once again.

Then his voice eased into the chords to become a sweet melody.

_I'll say this once again: you people, you are my friends._

_The devil he can't come in tonight, that's right._

She needed to get out of there. She could not hear his confessions. She had avoided listening to that song for a reason.

_Looking for Misery, but she found me lying naked on the floor._

_I was headed insane,_

_The devil told me his name, but he's not welcome here, any more. _

His voice was so raw, so passionate. She couldn't stand it.

She jumped slightly when the drums and accompanying guitars joined in, and a solitary tear dropped from her eye and rolled down her cheek, landing on her wrist.

_Tell me, what do you see?  
(What do you see)?_

_When you're looking at me?  
(When you look at me)?_

_This sense of responsibility is killing me inside, yeah…_

The dam that had been acting as a barrage, holding back the tears, was finally decimated and the representation of all of her weakness and sorrow and brokenness overflowed onto her cheeks and neck and chest and hands as she lost every last bit of self-control that she had.

His voice shifted and opened up fully to release all of the tension and self-hatred he had pent up within himself over the last ten years. It was as if his shackles had finally fallen and he was pouring himself out onto the stage before her, opening his wounds to her so that she could do with them what she willed.

_Looking for Misery, but she found me lying naked on the floor!  
(Stay away, sweet Misery!)_

_I was headed insane,_

_The devil told me his name, but he's not welcome here, anymore!_

She was gone – lost inside the vortex of his passion and hopelessness.

_Stay away, sweet Misery!_

She couldn't leave now, even if she wanted to. She was rooted in place by his words and his anguish.

_Stay away, sweet Misery!_

She took a risk and looked up, turning her head so that she was watching him now. His eyes were closed tight, his light blonde lashes brushing against his high cheekbones. His face was slightly flushed, probably due to his fast heart rate, and his brows were drawn together, emphasizing the pain that was revealed in his taut features.

His hair hadn't been cut in a while, but that was okay, because the long, curled locks had always looked divine on him. They were hanging around his face, framing his heavenly jaw, which was shadowed with unshaven hairs, giving him a more rugged, manly appearance. It was definitely an enhancement from the boyish good looks that he had adorned the last time she'd seen him.

The concentration on his face became intense as he wailed away on his guitar, his long and calloused fingers dancing across the thick strings that were pulled tightly against the neck of his Fender. His bottom lip was crushed between his teeth as the features on his face reflected the emotions the song evoked within him. The chorded muscles in his forearms flexed and rippled with every motion his hands made. His knees were slightly bent and his body naturally leaned backwards as he melded and meshed with his instrument and the notes that it emitted into the air.

When he straightened, his eyes flew open and immediately landed on her – almost like she had been calling to him to look at her, beckoning to him to give her recognition once again.

_The pressure's building with time. _

_I made it up in my mind._

_I've got excuses for all these things that I've tried in my life._

They were locked in a dance with each other. There was a cosmic pulling between their bodies. His golden eyes reeled her in and held her firmly in place, right where he wanted her. And then he exploded with everything he had kept inside, not withholding a single emotion. His entire body conveyed his feelings, his desires, as he assaulted his guitar and screamed into the microphone.

_Looking for Misery, but she found me lying naked on the floor!  
(Stay away, sweet Misery!)_

_I was headed insane,_

_The devil told me his name, but he's not welcome here!  
(He's not welcome, anymore!)  
Anymore!_

The tears were slowing their tracks down her cheeks. Her labored breathing was leveling out as close to normal as it could get while she was staring at him.

_Stay away, sweet misery! _

_You're not welcome anymore!_

The trembles that had wracked her frame just moments ago had finally ceased. Her heart was returning to a normal pace and was no longer beating her ribs to death in its fight to break free.

_Stay away, sweet misery!_

His eyes never wavered from hers, not even as he placed his guitar back in its stand and began to move towards her.

One of his bandmates reached out and grabbed onto his arm, and Clary had never felt so irritated at a complete stranger as she did at him. The guy whispered something to him, received a satisfactory acknowledgement, and then released his arm.

He stepped up to the microphone once again and cleared his throat. "So, um, we're going to take a really quick break. Yeah..." He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that Clary knew very well. "Just, uh, mingle or…whatever. We'll be back in ten to proceed with the set. Thanks."

And with that, he jumped from the stage and began to move towards her once again. Clary's heart rate picked up to an ungodly rate. Without warning, her friends stood and started to disperse. She panicked.

"Wait!" she called out, grabbing ahold of Isabelle's arm.

Isabelle stilled and looked down at her with apathetic eyes.

"Where are you going?" Her voice had raised an octave, the panic evident.

Her friend gave her a warm smile. "You'll be fine." And, after a reassuring pat on the hand, she left and disappeared in the throng of patrons gathered around the bar.

Clary looked back towards the direction of the stage. She jumped slightly when she discovered that he had already closed the gap between them and was now standing in front of her, his hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his low-rise jeans. They stared at each other for a moment. The tension between them was thick. She was suddenly very nervous to be so close to him.

"Hi," he said as he hesitantly lowered himself into the empty chair beside her.

"Hi," she meekly returned. Her palms were sweaty; she wiped them against the soft fabric of her dress.

He stared at her for a long moment, his honey-gold eyes roaming every inch of her porcelain-white face.

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice low and gruff, but still completely irresistible.

"I've been good," she answered honestly. "How about you?"

He chewed on his bottom lip for a second before answering. "I've been…I've been alright. I guess."

She knew he was lying. She would be lying herself if she didn't admit that his omission hurt.

"Clary, I-"

She held her hand up to silence him. "Jace, don't." She closed her eyes. "Please. You don't need to say it. I already know. That song spoke volumes. Trust me."

She felt his large hand cover hers and lower it back down to her lap. He didn't remove his hand.

"Clary." He paused, waiting.

She looked up at him and bit her lip, the anxiety overwhelming her.

"I _do_ need to say it. I need to say it every day for the rest of our lives, just to make up for all of the times I didn't say it before."

Once again, tears brimmed in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said as he held her gaze.

She tried to speak, to stop him from continuing.

"No," he stated firmly. "I _am_ sorry. I'm sorry for taking you for granted. I'm sorry for being stupid and arrogant. I'm sorry for hurting you out of selfishness. I'm sorry for saying those words that held absolutely no truth to them. But, most of all, I'm sorry for being a coward. For leaving."

"No," she choked out.

"Yes," he countered, his voice gentle but absolute.

She looked down at their hands and fought to hold back the tears.

"You don't know how hard it is to be this close to you and not be able to touch you the way that I want to – the way that I _need_ to – right now."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"I have dreamt about you every night for the past ten years."

"_You_ left _me_," she accused, feeling overwhelmed by his confession.

He watched her with a tight-lipped expression, pain and regret swirling in his eyes. After a brief moment, his jaw went slack and he opened his mouth to speak again. "I know I left you."

Clary started to speak when Jace raised a hand to silence her. "Please, let me finish."

He looked at her and waited for her agreement. She gave him a stern nod to continue.

"I know I left you," he repeated. "And I have regretted that decision every day since I made it. If I could go back – if I could I somehow turn back time – I would never have hurt you, I would never have said the things that I said. You have no idea how much that one choice has destroyed my life. I gave up everything that I have ever wanted, ever needed…" He shook his head in defeat.

"You broke me," she stated. "You left me in pieces." She pulled her hands from his grasp.

"I know-"

"You ripped my heart out in front of all those people, in front of our _friends_." The anger was rising up inside of her. It wouldn't take much to boil over at that point.

"I'm sor-"

"No! You don't get to say you're sorry now. You don't get to beg for my forgiveness!"

The tears that threatened her resolve before were now made of anger instead of sorrow.

Jace's honey-colored eyes were bright and sparking with fury as he looked at her.

"I thought I was protecting you!"

They were shouting at each other and had drawn quite a bit of attention towards their corner.

Clary recoiled from his raised voice. Jace's shoulders were rising and falling dramatically with each breath he drew in and released.

"What?" she managed to squeak out.

Jace hung his head and his erratic breathing began to slow. When he looked back up at her, she saw the glistening of unshed tears in his eyes.

"I thought I was protecting you," he repeated.

"Why would you think you were protecting met by _leaving_ me?"

"Because," he sighed as he hung his head in shame. "I've never deserved you. And I knew it was just a matter of time before I fucked up and you realized that."

Without her permission, Clary's hand crossed the invisible barrier between their bodies and found purchase on his, which were now clasped together between his knees. His elbows were holding his weight that seemed to be a thousand tons heavier due to the unbearable burden he carried on his shoulders.

She waited for his eyes to meet hers. Once they did, she spoke again.

"I don't understand how you could have ever thought that."

He appeared to be stunned as his brows disappeared beneath his sandy blonde waves, his eyes grew wider, and his once tense jaw dropped slack with unspoken words.

"You have _always_ deserved me." She spoke with truth, hoping that he believed her. "Even in your most difficult phases, you have always deserved me."

Jace squeezed her hand between the both of his, anchoring her to him.

"I'm not good enough for you, Clary. I never have been. I didn't know how to be what you needed me to be back then."

"You never had a problem being who I needed you to be. I think that the insignificance that you felt stemmed from within _you_. It was your own rejection of who you truly are."

"How can you know that? How can you be so sure?"

Clary smiled at him. "Because you never gave me a reason not to be."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. As he was about to say something else, one of his bandmates interrupted him. "Hey, man, sorry to interrupt, but…we need to get back on stage." The man looked down at her apologetically. She had no doubt that he knew who she was.

Jace looked up at his friend, and then back at Clary. "Yeah, okay." He looked back at his friend. "I'll be there in just a second." His friend gave him a quick nod and left.

His eyes met hers once again, and there was a softness to them that wasn't present before.

"Have dinner with me tomorrow," he requested.

"Jace, I'm engaged." She didn't mean for her tone to sound so regretful.

"I know."

"To Jordan," she continued, as if he didn't know. But she felt like she needed to say it out loud.

"I know."

Silence fell over them.

"Clary, it's just dinner."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he didn't allow her to. "Ask Jordan if he minds. If he does…well, then that's an absolute shame. I would be extremely disappointed, to be completely honest. But, if he doesn't, then have dinner with me. Please?"

She chewed on her bottom lip again. She was conflicted beyond reason. She was terrified that Jordan would protest her having dinner with Jace, which she wanted to do very badly. But she also knew that if she didn't ask for his blessing, she would be betraying his trust in her, and she could never do that to him.

"Okay," she began. Jace's face lit up as bright as the sun. "I'll ask."

"Thank you." He stood from his seat, not yet releasing her hands. She stood in front of him; their height difference was still nearly a foot, even with her three inch heels. "I've got to get back, but you'll stick around, right?"

She nodded.

He let her hands fall to her sides. She could tell that he didn't want to. She found that she really didn't want him to, either. What did that mean?

"Okay," he said as he turned back towards the stage. He stopped suddenly, turned back to her, and planted a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. With a grin, he left, leaving her stunned in place.

She proceeded through the rest of the evening in a daze. She barely registered her friends joining her back at the table and their incessant barrage of questions. She barely remembered the rest of Jace's set, but she did remember the way he looked, the way he moved, and the way his eyes kept finding hers. She barely processed the conversations afterwards, the exchange of phone numbers between Jace and herself, the short walk he took with her outdoors to the awaiting limo, and the chaste kiss he placed on her forehead before she slipped into the opened door and joined her friends who were giddy with the anticipation of her explanation. But what stuck out most, because it was such a victorious moment for her, was the look on Kaelie's face upon the realization that Jace was far from over Clary.

"So," Isabelle began, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tell us everything. And spare no detail."

* * *

The conversation with Jordan had been anticipated. She knew he would not be happy about her request. Why should he have been? He had been friends with Jace, best friends, and had watched him destroy the best thing he had going for him. He had spent years patiently and lovingly picking up the pieces of her heart after his friend had left them shattered. He had proven his love for her and in return, earned her love and devotion. He finally had what he had always pined for; she was his, and he was going to make her his wife.

So when she had dropped the inevitable bomb, she all but expected his reaction.

"No." His tone was firm and unwavering, his arms folded tightly across his chest and his shoulders set.

"Jordan, please, just hear me out." Hadn't she just heard those words a few days earlier, but from Jace?

"Why?" he asked. "Why would you want to have dinner with the one person who hurt you and abandoned you out of cowardice?"

"Because I owe him-"

"Clary, you don't owe him a damn thing!" he shouted, though his anger wasn't directed at her.

"I owe myself!" she countered, her voice raised just as loudly.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his arms falling to his sides.

She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, her eyes fluttering shut as she did.

"I owe myself to know more," she explained as she opened her eyes. "I need to know more, to know why he felt like he wasn't good enough."

"Why does it matter?" he asked, taking a step near her. "Why do you need to know _that_ in order to marry _me_? What difference will it make?"

She knew he was looking for an answer. He wanted her to tell him that it didn't matter, that it wouldn't make a difference. But she couldn't tell him that, because she didn't know for sure if it would.

She stepped forward and took both of his hands in hers. His hands were familiar; they had brought a lot of comfort over the years. They were symbols of friendship and of love. They had given her peace and they had given her passion. She looked at them for a brief moment before looking up into his green eyes-green like hers, but not quite the same. His brow furrowed. She hated seeing the conflict within him. She hated knowing that she was planting doubt in his mind.

"I just need to see him again. Just to erase any doubt that I have. Not doubt because of you, but because of me. Because of his reappearance."

Jordan breathed in deeply and released a loud sigh of defeat. "Okay."

She squeezed his hands. He returned the pressure.

"But promise me one thing."

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and waited.

"Promise me that, no matter what he says to you, you will remember what he did to you."

Her heart stuttered.

"Remember how he made you feel. Remember how he, without hesitation, broke your heart."

Water gathered in her eyes.

"And then, remember how _I_ was there for you. How _I_ spent years by your side helping you find yourself again. Remember the laughs that we've shared. Remember the conversations that we've had. Remember the hugs, and the kisses, and the passion that we've ignited. Remember how _I_ make you feel when _we're_ together. _Please_."

His words were not designed to hurt her, nor were they intended to speak ill of Jace. They were merely a plea, a request that she not forget everything that he had been through with her. For her.

* * *

Please leave a review and let me know what you think. I'm anxious to hear your thoughts.

Also, throw out some ideas about what you think will happen in Part III! I'd love to see what you come up with. :)


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all of The Mortal Instruments characters. I only own this story idea, so please do not steal/copy/infringe…etc…etc…my ideas. Thank you._

Well, here it is. The final installment to These Four Words. I hope it's satisfactory for each of you. I am very happy with the way it turned out. Thank you to everyone who has read it and has become so invested in these two character's lives...it means a lot to me. You have no idea.

Thank you to the Guest reviewers - I hate that I cannot reply to your comments, but you should know that they make me smile.

A very special thank you to rippingbutterflywings for being the BEST BETA ON THE PLANET! Her comments and encouragement have been the push I needed to complete this. Also, she beta'd this quickly so that I could post it before going to bed. :)

_One last thing before you continue: Please read the A/N at the bottom. Thanks!_

So, without further ado, here it is. I hope none of you suffer too much while reading.

* * *

Part III

Into Your Arms (The Maine)

He picked her up around five o'clock the next evening. Their drive was somewhat quiet aside from the initial pleasantries of _How was your day?_ they shared. After about twenty minutes, Jace pulled into a complex that he knew would be familiar to her.

"What are we doing here?" Clary asked as she leaned forward in her seat to gain a clearer view.

He placed his car in park and turned to her, a smile spreading across his lips. "We're having dinner."

She looked at him in disbelief. "This is our old apartment."

"I know."

"I thought when you asked me out to dinner, we'd actually be going _out_ to dinner."

Jace could tell she was mildly uncomfortable. He found a little pleasure in that thought.

"Clary, I asked you to have dinner with me. I never said we would be going _out_. You inferred that."

She narrowed her eyes at him and he chuckled. God, how he had missed her.

"So you brought me _here_? Why?" Clary looked at the building, and then back at him.

"Because I cooked you dinner," he stated, as if she should have realized that by now.

Her brows drew together in confusion. She was so cute, and she had no idea.

"At my apartment," he added.

Clary's eyes widened at his words. "_Your_ apartment?" She looked back at the building again. "You kept our apartment?"

Jace's smile grew wider when she looked back at him in shock, her green eyes dancing with intrigue and her mouth open in the shape of a perfectly rounded O.

He nodded at her and the corners of her lips slowly turned upwards into a large grin.

"Come on," he said, as he nodded towards the building. "Let's go eat."

The apartment wasn't much. There were very little furnishings since he rarely stayed there anymore. Other than the basic furniture and kitchenware, the only thing in the whole entire apartment was his black Baby Grand piano. Jace had always intended to have it moved to his place in Los Angeles, but he never actually hired the service to do so. Eventually, he bought a new piano for his permanent home on the west coast.

Jace watched from the kitchen as Clary slowly – and curiously – made her way through the rooms. He assumed she was scrolling through her memories from when they had lived there together. They had a lot of memories there. Good memories. He left her to herself so that she could enjoy them in peace.

By the time she had made her way back into the kitchen, Jace had finished cooking their meal. He knew she loved pasta, so he had called Maryse Lightwood and requested a recipe. She gave him a brief lesson on exactly how to make it, and he had followed her recipe to the T. It smelled – and looked – delicious.

"So, when did you become a chef?" Clary asked playfully as she leaned her back against the counter next to the stove where he was fixing their plates.

"I've learned a lot of things over the last ten years," was his reply.

"What," she began with a giggle, "none of your girlfriends would cook for you?"

He knew she was fishing for information. He was going to be completely honest with her.

"I haven't been in a relationship in ten years, Clary."

She snorted. "You honestly think I believe that you haven't been with a woman in ten years, Jace?"

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I said I haven't been in a _relationship_, not that I haven't been _with_ a woman. You know me better than that."

Jace looked up at her and a sudden sense of dread rushed through him.

"Oh, shit! Fuck! I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" He fumbled over his words. "See now why I said that I don't deserve you? Because I say and do stupid shit like that!"

"Jace," she spoke softly, "you don't have to apologize. We broke up. I didn't really think that you would stay abstinent for the rest of your life. You have needs to satisfy."

"There was nothing satisfying about being with them." He looked down and slowly shook his head. "It was merely a fix for my depression, a way to fill the void." He looked up at her. His stomach was in knots. "It was only half a dozen or so, but I honestly don't even remember most of their names – or even their faces, to be honest." He bit his lip. "Clary, I was so messed up for those first few years that I couldn't even tell you where I was, much less who I was with most of the time."

His eyes bore into hers and he saw the pain his words caused in her heart. But he didn't know if it was pain for herself, or for him. "_That_ is why I have never been good enough for you. Why I knew I would fuck it all up eventually."

Clary tried to speak, but he interceded before she could.

"It wasn't until I heard about you and Jordan that I realized what I was doing. That's when I finally woke up." He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed onto the long ends at the base of his neck. "I felt so much shame, so much regret, so much hatred for myself."

She opened her mouth again and began to shake her head, but Jace continued.

"I kept up with you all this time."

Her mouth snapped shut.

"Alec and Izzy would fill me in on how you were."

He studied her face.

"I only ever wanted your happiness, Clary. With each report of your tears or your deepening depression, I hated myself even more."

She bit her lip and remained silent.

"But it wasn't until Izzy told me about your growing friendship with Jordan that I truly felt the ramifications of my actions." He sighed.

It was a sigh of defeat.

"I should've known it would happen, though."

Clary's brows drew together in that way that he loved.

"I always knew he felt more for you than just friendship. I'm pretty sure that, if he and I hadn't been good buddies back then, he would have tried to take you from me." Jace looked down and chuckled; it was a dark and pained sound.

He looked back up at her.

"I wasn't all that surprised, I guess. But that didn't change the bitterness and jealousy I felt. I really didn't have a reason to be jealous, though, did I?"

His question was rhetorical; she knew that. That was why she didn't give him a response.

"If I could take it all back, Clary, I would."

His eyes were locked on hers.

His heart was aching.

"I was young and so, so stupid. I thought I knew everything." He smiled at her. "I didn't know shit."

She gave him a small smile in return.

"That song that I wrote, the one I sang that night – I didn't mean a single damn word of it."

Clary bit her lip, and he could tell it was to keep it from quivering. Her eyes were already beginning to glisten. But he couldn't stop.

"That was my arrogance and ignorance seeping through. I thought that I wouldn't be able to control my hormones, that I was a man and there were certain things a man just couldn't control." He shook his head in shame and stared down at his feet. "I thought that by breaking up with you I was sparing you of the heartbreak that was sure to come from my infidelity."

She whimpered, but he didn't look up.

"But what I failed to realize was…" He shook his head again. "What I failed to _understand_ was that there was no way in hell that I would have _ever_ been unfaithful to you." He found her eyes again. "Ever."

He saw a tear trickle slowly down her cheek.

"You were my _everything_. You still are. There is nothing in this world that is more important to me than you. I'd give it all up – the music, the career, everything – if I could just have one more chance to prove my worth to you."

Her bottom lip quivered. Those were the words he had waited years to tell her.

Jace reached forward and brushed the pad of his thumb beneath her eyes, effectively erasing the tears.

He gazed deeply into her eyes as they shimmered with unshed tears. "I have never wanted anything, or needed anything, more than you."

Her eyes closed and those tears raced down her cheeks. Jace wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tugged her small body against his. Clary buried her face in his chest. He felt her slender arms hug around his waist as she held him close, too.

They stayed that way for several long minutes. It was Jace who finally broke the silence.

"We should probably eat."

He regretfully released her and she stepped back a foot, not putting too much distance between them. As Jace turned to head into the kitchen, Clary finally spoke up.

"Jace?"

He paused and turned back to her. She was still standing in the same place he had left her. She looked like she was in turmoil over something internal.

"Can I-" She began. "Can I just ask you one question?"

He nodded, although he dreaded what the question would be. If she was that conflicted over it, how easy would it be to answer?

"Were you…" She paused and drew in a breath. "Were you and Kaelie…" She bit her lip.

He could tell how difficult it was for her to voice her question, and she had justified reason to be anxious about it. But she also deserved his complete honesty.

He walked forward a few steps so that he was directly in front of her again, and then he reached out and gently took hold of her forearms. "I'm going to be honest with you, Clary. I will always be honest with you from here on out." He held her gaze just to make sure that she was listening. "None of those women meant a damn thing to me. None of them." She tried to speak, but he cut her off. "I was with Kaelie once. Only once, and that was three years after I left. She came to L.A. for some modeling thing and we ran into each other at a bar. I drank a lot back then. A whole lot. She saw an opportunity, and she took it."

Clary's eyes narrowed and her breathing picked up pace.

"Now, I'm not saying that she took advantage of me or anything. I knew what I was doing. But, if had been completely sober…well, there's no way in hell I would've hooked up with her. And I mean that."

Clary bit her lip again.

"I honestly have no idea what I saw in her to begin with. She's just an ugly lie wrapped up in a pretty package. And I allowed her to tempt me. God, I was so stupid!" Jace released her arms and ran a hand through his hair. Clary crossed her arms over her chest.

"She thinks she has you. She's always thought that."

He looked at her. "She never had me. There's only one woman who has ever had _me_."

Her arms fell to her sides and her defenses slipped. It was a visible change in her demeanor.

"Now, let's go eat before it gets cold."

Once in the kitchen, Jace grabbed their plates, Clary picked up their glasses, and they proceeded to the dining table together. After taking their seats, he poured wine into both of their glasses. The meal was good. Maryse's dish was a hit, and Isabelle's wine suggestion complimented it perfectly. Clary commented occasionally on just how delicious the food was and even joked that Jace could show her how to make it one day. She had no idea how that comment made his heart clench. Or maybe she did.

After they had finished eating, they sat at the table for a while and simply enjoyed each other's company. He made her laugh several times and relished in the sound. It had been too long since he had last witnessed her happiness. He wanted to be part of it for eternity.

Once he took notice that the mood was much lighter and a lot more comfortable than it had been before, Jace decided to take a risk. It was a bold move, a move that could end in one of two ways: good, or bad. But he was willing to take that risk. He was ready to take that risk. He _needed_ to take that risk.

"Clary, I have something I want you to hear."

She smiled sweetly at him. "What is it?"

He looked down at his hands that were folded atop the table. He scratched at an indention he found in the soft wooden surface.

"It's another song that I wrote. Last night."

He was met by silence, so he looked up to see her reaction.

Clary's face was impassive, but still soft. Her eyes were unguarded. "Okay," she replied softly.

Jace led her into the living room, where the Baby Grand was housed. He seated himself on the stool and patted the space beside him, looking up at her expectantly. Clary hesitated briefly before sliding onto the stool next to him. There were only a few inches of space between their bodies. He could feel her heat radiating onto him like his own personal flame.

He placed his fingers above the keys and prepared his mind and heart for the masterpiece that he hoped would win her heart back.

He began playing. She had never heard him play piano before. He hoped that she liked it.

_There was a new girl in town,_

_She had it all figured out._

_And I'll state something rash,_

_She had the most amazing..._

He smiled at her.

_Smile._

She smiled back with a choked laughed.

_I bet you didn't expect that,_

_She made me change my ways._

_With eyes like sunsets, baby,_

_And legs that went on for days._

Clary covered her face with both of her hands, hiding the grin that was splayed across her features.

_I'm fallin' in love, but it's fallin' apart._

_I need to find my way back to the start._

_When we were in love, oh, things were better than they are._

_Let me back into, into your arms._

_Into your arms._

Jace felt a movement; he thought she might be choking back tears.

_She made her way to the bar,_

_I tried to talk to her, but she seemed so far._

_Outta my league, _

_I had to find a way to get her next to me._

She dropped her hands and he chanced a glance. Her face was dry.

_I'm fallin' in love, but it's fallin' apart._

_I need to find my way back to the start._

_When we were in love, oh, things were better than they are._

_Let me back into, into your arms._

_Into your arms._

He was pouring his soul into this. He had to make her know, had to make her see.

_Oh, she's slippin' away,_

_I always freeze when I'm thinking of words to say._

_All the things she does make it seem like love,_

_If it's just a game, then I like the way that we play._

He smiled to himself when she leaned into him.

_I'm fallin' in love, but it's fallin' apart._

_I need to find my way back to the start._

_I'm fallin' in love, but's it's falling apart._

_I need to find my way back to the start._

_When we were in love, oh, things were better than they are._

_Let me back into, into your arms._

_Into your arms._

_Into your arms._

_Into your arms._

His fingers slowed and came to a rest on the black and white keys. Jace didn't move; he just waited. Waited for her. The ball was in her court now, and it would remain there for as long as she desired.

Clary's head was down, braced tentatively against his shoulder, and her vibrant hair created a curtain, masking her expression. He desperately wanted to see her face, to know what she was feeling. He remained unmoving for what felt like hours, his heart pounding in his ears.

When she finally did move, it caused his heart to leap into his throat. He swallowed the lump forming.

"Jace," she spoke softly.

He slowly turned to face her. Her eyes were glistening like the morning dew on a blade of grass.

"I can't hurt him."

An explosion occurred somewhere in the near vicinity. At least that's what it felt like to Jace when his whole world caved in on itself.

"I-" He began in a panic.

Clary's fingers pressed against his lips, halting his words. He had been yearning for years just to feel her skin on his lips again. It was still familiar. Nothing had changed.

"It's just that," she began, "he's been really good to me. And he deserves better."

Jace nodded, the movement causing the pads of her fingers to brush against his lips. He wanted desperately to run his tongue across them, just to see if they still tasted the same. He was sure they did.

"I never thought that I'd see you again, Jace. I moved on. You forced me to move on."

"Cla-"

"Shhh." Her eyes bore into his and he found himself silent once more. "I think I understand why you did it. Or at least I'm trying to." Clary dropped her hand to her lap and he instantly felt the loss of warmth her contact caused. "It doesn't make it better, though. I haven't decided if I'm still angry…" She trailed off for a minute, possibly searching for the right words she wanted to convey. "Or if I've forgiven you."

He sighed, not realizing that he had been holding his breath the entire time.

A heavy silence hung between them. Jace was afraid it would never end. He looked down at the piano keys in front of him. He had always found comfort in the harmonic tones they emitted.

"I think I have."

He looked back up at her. She was chewing on her bottom lip. It was very distracting.

"Forgiven you," she clarified.

Jace couldn't help the smile that began to spread across his lips. Those were the words he had needed to hear, longed to hear, for the last decade.

"I don't know what that means, though," Clary admitted.

"Can I?" he started.

She nodded, indicating that she was finished for the moment.

"I know that I fucked up. And I know that, if you give me a second chance, I have a lot of begging and ass kissing to do."

She smiled at him, her cheeks turning a slight shade darker.

"And believe me," a devilish grin widened his smile. "I am more than willing to kiss your ass."

"Jace!" Clary scoffed.

He chuckled, dodging her hand.

"I'm serious, though." He looked at her. "I will never stop making up for my mistake. I will never stop working to gain your trust. And I will never stop showing you that you mean the absolute world to me."

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth again.

"You should probably stop doing that," Jace said as he reached out and pulled it down with his thumb. It was plump and red from her self-infliction.

He stared at her mouth for probably longer than he should have.

"Jace," she whispered. His eyes jumped back up to meet hers. "I can't find the strength within myself to watch you walk away again."

His breath caught. "What are you saying?"

"I don't know how I'm going to break his heart."

In that very moment, all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss her. But, he didn't. Because it wouldn't be right. Not while she was still with Jordan.

He released a slow, measured breath to steady his erratically beating heart. "Just be honest with him," he told her.

"What am I supposed to say, Jace?" Clary stood from the piano bench and began pacing across the floor. It was a nervous habit she had always possessed. "I know I promised that I wouldn't let him change my mind? I'm sorry that I lied? I didn't mean to feel this way? I don't want to hurt you?" Each statement came out as a question while she tried to sort them out in her head.

Jace stood and walked towards her, stopping a few paces short to give her the space that she needed. She was tugging on her long, curly strands. It was a stress reliever for her.

"He's going to be crushed! I'm going to destroy him! I can't destroy him! Not after everything he's done for me!" Clary stopped abruptly, right in front of him. "What kind of person does that make me?"

He closed the small gap that remained between them and placed his hands on her wrists, wrapping his fingers gently around them while pulling her claws from her tresses.

"It makes you human," Jace stated while staring into her eyes. "You haven't lied to him. And you aren't intentionally setting out to hurt him."

Clary stared back at him, her eyes unwavering.

"Just be honest."

"I don't want to hurt him. I know what that feels like, and I don't want to do it to him."

He had to admit to himself that it stung, like a slap to the face, even though he knew she didn't intend for it to. But he also knew that he deserved the reminder.

"I'll give you time. As much time as you need."

She tried to speak, but he cut her off.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured her. "Not for a while, at least. Figure out what it is that you want."

Clary opened her mouth again, but Jace didn't want her to decide just yet. She needed to make this decision after she had sifted through all of her emotions. It was important, and he had to know that she was confident in her choice – whatever that may be.

"Talk to Jordan."

Her lips were pressed tightly together.

"And, once you've made up your mind…" He drew in a deep breath and released it while dropping her wrists. "Well, you know where to find me."

* * *

Six days. That's how long it took before Clary showed up outside their apartment – _his_ apartment.

When Jace answered the buzzer, he honestly hadn't been expecting her. After the fifth day, he had almost convinced himself to let her go again. So when her voice rang through the speaker, he had to refrain from running down the three flights of stairs to meet her in the lobby and scoop her into his arms. But he was getting a little ahead of himself, because he didn't even know why she was there in the first place.

As he waited the agonizingly long seconds for Clary to follow the stairwell up to his place, Jace thought over the pleading conversations that he'd had with Alec and Isabelle over the past week. He had called both of them every day asking if they knew anything, if they had heard from her, if they knew what she was going to do. Alec swore he hadn't spoken to her, and also that Jordan hadn't told him anything since before the dinner.

Isabelle was a little more evasive, and Jace was almost positive that she knew something vital. Something that could change his fate. But getting information out of Isabelle when she didn't want to share it was worse than pulling teeth from a six-year-old. Not that he knew anything about that.

The light knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts, and Jace stared at the wooden barrier for a few seconds before gathering the courage to open it and face the most important moment of his life.

His hand wrapped around the brass knob and he twisted it and then pulled back on the obstacle that stood between him and the love of his life.

Clary stood in front of him, staring at the floor, with her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Jace liked her hair any way that she wore it, but down was always his favorite. He loved to run his hands through it and feel the silky curls slip through his fingers. But the way her hair was pulled up now, revealing her flawless face and slender neck, kicked his heart into overdrive. She was sexier than she had ever been.

However, that wasn't what captivated his attention the most. The bag slung over her shoulder did. That single duffel carried more than just clothes; it carried his future.

Clary looked up at him, and Jace saw that she had been crying – and recently too. But the smile that she gave him wasn't one of sadness. It was peaceful and full of hope, and most important of all, forgiveness.

He hesitated for only a minute before he crossed over the threshold, took her face in his hands, and kissed her with everything he had in him – all of the regret, all of the self-hate, all of the mourning, all of the passion, and all of the love that the last ten years held for him.

He didn't need to hear her reasons. He didn't need to know what had happened over the last six days, or even how Jordan had reacted. All he needed for his assurance was that she was there, with him, and that she did not want to be anywhere else.

Jace pulled her into the apartment and shut the door. He never lost contact with her lips, he couldn't afford to at that moment. Clary's bag slipped from her shoulder and landed with a soft thud against the floor in the foyer before she tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him closer.

"Show me," she whispered against his lips. "Show me that I mean the world to you." She kissed him. "And I'll show you that you mean the world to me."

Jace smiled triumphantly and wrapped his arms around her tiny waist while lifting her from the floor and holding her body as close to his as he could.

* * *

She was standing in front of him, looking more radiant that she ever had in her life. Her hair was down in the soft curls that he adored so much, but parts of it had been pinned back and away from her face as to not obstruct her flawless features. She had a soft glow about her that could only mean one thing.

She was in love.

With him.

Which explained why, two years later, they were standing in front of a small group of their family and close friends and a minister, repeating vows that they had catered specifically for each other. Jace could hear the sniffles rippling across their audience, and he suspected that there wasn't a dry eye amongst their spectators. They had opted for a small, private ceremony in hopes of evading fans and paparazzi. So far, they had succeeded.

Clary's hands trembled slightly in his, and he held on tighter to assure her that she had nothing to fear. She smiled at him. It was the same smile that he had fallen in love with all over again during the course of their courtship. Yes, he had properly courted her this time. She made damn sure he worked for her affection and trust. And he was all too eager to oblige. And he made sure to show her that eagerness the first night they made love, two months after their ten-year separation had ended.

It was incredible; she was better than he had remembered. She was better than any he'd had in the time that they had been apart. Clary was his lover, his soul mate, the love of his life. Everything about her was flawless and perfect. And he worshipped her body and nurtured her heart as often as she would allow.

Jace was so focused on those glorious memories of the beautiful woman in front of him that he had barely heard a word spoken since she had appeared at the start of the aisle, dressed in flowing white, with her father on her arm.

Clary's lips moved in a mesmerizing rhythm, and he just had caught the formation of "I do" before she slipped a gold band on his left ring finger.

Alec, his best man, gave him a nudge in his ribcage, and Jace mechanically took the ring from his best friend's fingers. He knew he was reciting the words that he had memorized just hours before. It wasn't like he would ever forget the way he felt about her or the things she did that caused his heart to stir in that way that only she could.

But, just before he slipped Clary's delicate band on her left ring finger, he spoke the four words of his redemption.

The four words that he should have been telling her every day that had passed.

The four words that he would tell her every day that came to pass.

"I do love you."

* * *

I hope you all survived it! It was an emotional roller coaster for me, to be honest. I went back and forth on who I wanted Clary to choose. In the end, my heart won the battle.

Please leave a review, I'd love to read your comments. :)

Thank you so much for staying with this story. You are all so awesomely amazing!

(Ps. Oblivion update to come soon)


End file.
